


waiting in nevada

by dizzy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, Stalkerish Behavior, reference to darren/others, reference to unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:56:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4981735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's always a bad idea to sleep with fans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	waiting in nevada

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Luckie for encouraging my weird fic and last minute need for a beta.

Fucking fans is always a bad idea. 

But sometimes they're cute, and sometimes life is hard and it's nice to have a warm body who thinks you can't do anything wrong, even if they don't actually know you at all. 

* 

This one is sweet. Baby fat clinging to his face but a body that's all grown up, biceps and a nice thick cock and eyes that are so wide open it feels like he's trying not to blink for what he might miss on Darren's face if he did. 

"I'm kind of obsessed with you," he says, voice shy and high. 

Darren kisses him so he shuts up, so he doesn't have to deal with the reminder. 

* 

"Yo," Darren says, answering the phone when it rings even though he doesn't recognize the caller. He gets a lot of unknown numbers, offices and shit. "This is Darren." 

"Hi. Hi, Darren. This is Chris." 

Darren recognizes the voice but he stops walking. "Chris, from-" 

Just in case. 

"Last night," Chris says. "And I was wondering - I have a ticket to your show tonight, too. And I thought, maybe - maybe we could - can I see you again tonight?" 

"How did you get this number, man?" 

"I texted myself from your phone," Chris admits. 

He doesn't really sound that sorry. 

"I mean, you came on my jeans and I had to walk home in them. It felt like a number was the least you could do for me." 

"So you could have like, asked?" 

"I decided not to take the risk of rejection." 

"I could still reject you." 

"I'll blow you," Chris says. "You can come in my mouth." 

Darren swallows hard. He barely remembers the night before, but this would... simplify his search for evening plans. "Yeah. Okay. Come a little early, I'll get you a VIP pass or something so you don't have to wait outside." 

"No," Chris says. 

"What? No?" 

"I don't want you to do anything for me in exchange for sex," Chris says. "That feels like prostitution. I'll pay for your show. I'll wait outside with everyone else, after." 

"So stealing a phone number is okay, fucking your favorite singer is okay, getting free tickets from him isn't?" 

"Right," Chris says. 

*

Darren's brother's in a band. His fiance's at every show cheering him on. He's good, she's sweet. They probably go for milkshakes after and take long walks through park holding hands. They probably stop to pet puppies and pick out names for their future kids. 

Darren's band is a little different. A lot more popular and a lot less wholesome of a lot. After shows, they pick through offered numbers and propositions. Most of them are straight. The drummer's gay. 

Darren's just not picky. 

*

The third time he takes Chris back, it's because Chris promised Darren could give him a facial and fuck him bare if he really wanted. 

Chris will do _anything_ Darren wants, and it’s heady. 

(But he has to pretend it isn’t obvious that Chris is inexperienced. He’ll use fame for sex but there’s a difference when it’s someone who knows how this game works. Chris still widens his eyes and blushes a little when Darren gets naked, just for a moment before he remembers to pretend to be confident. His fingers still shake and he uses too much lube and it all speaks to inexperience that Darren has to overlook. 

He has to because Darren doesn’t like things that make him think too hard about what he’s doing with his life. Stealing someone’s innocence because they like a song he sings feels too far over the line.) 

*

"How do you even have the money for all these shows?" Darren asks. 

It's been three weeks and four states. 

Darren's fucked five other people, but Chris worms his way back in there every few days. 

The sex is good and sometimes the stuff before and after isn’t bad, either. If it weren't for the way Chris stands at his shows mouthing the words to every song, he might be able to trick himself into thinking this was an actual hookup like he used to have, with actual people he was interested in. 

But it's been a while since he had time for anything like that. He's not really looking right now. 

Chris shrugs. "Maybe I spend my evenings doing tricks." 

Darren snorts. "I think if you were, you'd know it's called 'turning tricks' not doing them." 

"Shut up." Chris straddles his lap and pouts. He's got such a nice mouth. "Maybe my innocence is what rakes in all the dollar bills, yo." 

It's that - things like that, things that make Darren laugh when he doesn't expect to. Almost as good as the orgasms. 

Chris kisses his neck. "You smell good. I went and bought your aftershave, you know." 

And then he says things like _that_. Darren pushes him off. "You should head out. We have to hit the road early tomorrow." 

*

He almost takes another girl home. 

Chris stops him. Out of nowhere, grabs his arm, physically pulling Darren away. 

A venue guard sees him and advances. The girl looks bewildered. Chris looks frantic. 

"You need us to take care of him?" The guard asks Darren. 

Darren looks at Chris. He doesn't even seem phased. His nails are still digging into Darren's arm. "You're not fucking her," he hisses. 

"Sir?" The guard takes another step in. 

"No," Darren says. He looks at Chris, covers Chris's hand with his own. "He's cool." 

He has to squeeze Chris's fingers so hard he wouldn't be surprised if they bruise before Chris lets go. 

There are coppery crescent marks already spilling over with droplets of blood where Chris's nails broke his skin. Darren stares at him, then shakes his head. "Stay here." 

Chris seems cowed, for once. All he does is nod. 

Darren sends the girl away with an apology and an autograph. 

*

The ride to the hotel is - strange. Chris doesn't say anything, just stares out the window in the back of the Uber. 

In the hotel room, Darren fucks him with not enough prep. Chris lets out noises that sound like sobs but he's on his hands and knees and Darren doesn't see. 

Afterward, Chris disappears into the bathroom. Darren listens to the sound of the shower running. He looks at the blood dried and smeared on his arm, and has to shake his head at himself and the weird situation he's in. 

"I'm in love with you," Chris says when he comes out, and his voice is so shaky and broken. 

And Darren thinks he probably means it, because love isn't always puppies and walks in the park. Sometimes love is bitter and jealous and obsessive and eats you from the inside out. He'll even buy that someone can love him without even knowing him, because love is a selfish feeling and it matters more what you think you feel than what really exists sometimes. 

Chris is in love, or some version of it. Darren is- 

What is he? 

Horny? 

Bored? 

Lonely? 

Darren grabs his hand and pulls Chris onto the bed. "Love blows," he says, because when all else fails, just leave it at the truth. 

Chris curls up with his head on Darren's shoulder. Darren's afraid he's going to cry, but Chris just falls asleep there. 

*

Chris skips a show. 

Darren should be relieved, right? 

But instead he finds himself lingering around until the same fans have been back by three times and are starting to give him strange looks. 

He's not responsible for Chris. Just because they fuck, sometimes, it doesn't make him responsible for anything Chris does. 

"Are you high?" Someone asks. 

He laughs, a bit too high. He wishes. "Nah. Better be going, though." 

More hugs. One more selfie. One more look around. 

No sign of Chris. 

*

He doesn't take anyone else back to the hotel. 

At three in the morning, his phone rings. It's Chris and he thinks, at least he doesn't have to worry about the kid being dead in a ditch somewhere. 

Chris is almost crying and says he's having family issues. Darren doesn't really need to hear this, but he doesn't tell Chris to stop talking, either. It'll be his good deed for the day. 

This is not their bonding moment. Darren falls asleep while Chris is talking, barely ten minutes in. 

When he wakes up in the morning, it takes him twenty minutes to realize the call is still connected, timer counting down five hours and twenty-three minutes. 

"Chris?" He says, voice rough. 

The call disconnects immediately. 

*

Darren doesn't do coke often. He likes booze, he likes weed, and he doesn't feel too much like those are vices he'll regret. But once in a while someone shows up with something stronger and he's a sucker for the old familiar uppers. 

"You're on something, aren't you?" Chris's voice is thick with disapproval. 

Darren isn't even sure how Chris knew where he was staying. He didn't go outside after the show tonight, so busy snorting his dinner in the green room. 

"You're a freak," Darren says, and fists his fingers in the stupid graphic print of a llama head on Chris's t-shirt. "Restraining orders were made for people like you." 

Chris's mouth draws tight and his whole expression darkens. "You shouldn't do drugs. They make you mean." 

"Are you actually twelve?" Darren asks. He's angry, suddenly. He's angry because he feels like he's in trouble and he's always uncomfortable when he disappoints people and he doesn't know why this guy even matters. He doesn't know why he hasn't fucked anyone else in a month, except this fucking kid just waltzes in like he belongs here. 

"No," Chris says. Darren tries to find a crack in the facade of him. He suddenly wants to break Chris apart and find out what's underneath. "Will you not do this to yourself again?" 

"Fuck you." Darren's surly and shoves at Chris. 

Chris just takes a step back, putting the backpack he carries with him on a chair. "Come on. I'll run you a bath. You'll feel better." 

*

Why does he close his eyes and look the other way when Chris strokes hands over his chest, soaps him up and rinses him off? 

Why does he let Chris jerk him off in the bath? 

Why does it feel so nice and so dirty at the same time, for Chris to wipe him clean with a towel and tuck him into bed? 

"I'll go if you want," Chris says. Darren's sleepy but he looks over. Chris is still fully dressed, perched on the edge of the bed. He has his hands clasped on his knees. "If you really want." 

Darren shakes his head. The crash has settled in. He just wants to sleep for a year. "Stay." 

*

"That your boyfriend?" Darren's security asks. New venue, new security, but they've been playing this joint every night for a week and Chris stands out amongst the legions of panty-throwing girls. It's obvious when a place is way too lax on ID checks. "Or a stalker?" 

Chris sees them looking. He's standing behind the partition that separates fans from everyone else. He waves his hand and smiles, unafraid. 

"Not really sure," Darren says. "But let him back." 

The security guard is confused. That's okay. Darren knows the feeling well.


End file.
